


paw prints

by lusterrdust



Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 20:59:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11654619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lusterrdust/pseuds/lusterrdust
Summary: "It seems a strange thing for a creature so full of love and life to be given such a short sentence in it." [bughead]





	paw prints

**Author's Note:**

> Having dealt with the loss of my own dog's passing, as well as my cat's in the last two weeks, this fic kind of came out of nowhere.

 

 

> ▱◯♕
> 
> “ _People leave imprints on our lives, shaping who we become in much the same way that a symbol is pressed into the page of a book to tell you who it comes from. Dogs, however, leave paw prints on our lives and our souls, which are as unique as fingerprints in every way.”  
>  ― Ashly Lorenzana_
> 
> ◯

"You can hold him." The Veterinarian in pink scrubs tells them, her face full of sympathy. "If it's easier that way."

 _Easy_ is the furthest thing any part of this situation remotely is.

Jughead can feel his throat constrict with harrowing emotion as he stares at his best pal lying helplessly on the metal table in front of him.

Scraggly white hair that's grown somewhat coarse through the years, and a right eye that's glossed a milky white with cataracts, Hot Dog has aged only in his body. Were he able, he would be trotting happily about their home or finding places to bury his rawhides in.

But time is a bittersweet thing... and in gain of wonderful memories, it's also been the bearer of illnesses caused by old age.

Jughead pets Hot Dog's head and bites his lip to help alleviate the choked feeling in his chest, threatening to tear through in a sob.

For the past eleven years, his furry friend has been with him through the ups and downs of his life.

Hot Dog has been with him through two graduations, an engagement, and marriage. He's been with him through two apartments and his current home now. He's been with him through the highs and lows of his relationship with Betty, and through her pregnancy and eventual newborn baby.

It seems a strange thing for a creature so full of love and life to be given such a short sentence in it. Jughead looks to Betty and notices the tears in her eyes as she strokes Hot Dog's back with a tender touch.

Suddenly, he's glad his dad had offered to watch their daughter for the afternoon. He doesn't think this is the type of atmosphere for a one year old... especially considering the emotional state he and Betty find themselves in now.

There's a low whine as Hot Dog's eyes flicker up to him and Jughead finally shakes his head to the Vet, moving forward to kiss his snout.

"Let's leave him laying like this." He says with a voice like sandpaper as both his hands move to cup Hot Dog's head to rub gently behind his ears. "I don't want to hurt him."

The Vet smiles sadly in understanding before stating he'll fall asleep first as she prepares her things.

From his side, Betty murmurs to Hot Dog how much of a good boy he is, of how much they love him. Jughead takes a wavering breath and continues to rub his buddy's ears, pushing the panic at the reality of the situation down, if just for the moment. "I'm going to miss you like crazy, Hot Dog."

Hot Dog holds his gaze, and Jughead can almost swear he understands him. He wonders if in some way, Hot Dog will miss him too.

"Love you, pal."

It's all he can get out before Hot Dog's breathing slows and his eyes flutter closed. There's no bark of unease, no whimper of pain from the ache of his joints. No, Hot Dog just looks peaceful as the dose brings him to sleep.

But all too soon, his chest stops moving, and the Vet pulls her stethoscope away before a cold finality hits Jughead. He feels Betty turn into him and opens his arm to carry her grief before she's burying her face in his neck, crying quietly and staining the collar of his jacket with her tears.

They make arrangements to call back the next day to discuss cremation details before leaving the office.

After, they sit in the backseat of their car for a half hour, silent and embracing one another while feeling the full weight of Hot Dog's death.

"I hate having pets." Betty sniffs to him, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Her face is blotchy and red, her lashes dark and wet.

"No, you don't." Jughead says moving his hand up her arm to cradle the base of her neck. He drags his thumb across her skin, massaging it gently as his free hand wipes at his own eyes.

Betty sighs shakily, wiping at her nose once more. "No, I don't."

Her phone goes off suddenly, and Jughead's chest tightens when the picture she has for his dad greets his vision. It's FP sleeping on their couch, Julie fast asleep on his chest and Hot Dog on his legs.

She opens the FaceTime call and Jughead instantly feels some of the pressure in his throat ease by the way his daughter giggles loudly at their faces onscreen.

They don't get another pet until six months later, and even after the little beagle pup wiggles his way into their hearts and in their family, Jughead and Betty always keep Hot Dog close to their hearts. Eventually the sadness dulls and the hearache lessens as memories elicit happier feelings.

It's those days when Jughead thinks with fond affection of his old sheepdog, staring at the paw prints on his urn, and wondering just how much mischief his furry friend is causing in doggy heaven. 


End file.
